


The Game

by Janina



Series: For the Night is Dark [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Murder, They are literally partners in crime, Very Very Dark! Jon, Very Very Dark! Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa gives new meaning to "write what you know".





	The Game

**Author's Note:**

> This is what writer's block results in.
> 
> If murder bothers you, please don't read!)
> 
> Gorgeous banner by mynameisnoneya! 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/puxfH8n)

An author Sansa admired once told her that she purposely put herself in weird and different situations so she could write about them. It was the most authentic way to capture the sights, feelings, and the sounds. To be able to do a play-by-play of the experience later on. 

Sansa told Jon, her boyfriend, about that later and he had considered it for a few and then nodded. “Maybe she’s right,” he said. He grinned. “What experience do you want have, San?”

When she told him, he had gotten excited and fucked her until she was screaming her head off. 

Now, here she was, shivering in excitement and a little bit of fear in the living room of a one-story abandoned house some ten miles from town. She and Jon were holding hands. They were in this together. She looked at him and smiled and he grinned back. 

“I love you,” she said. 

“I love you too, baby.”

There was a chill in the air, but it was fall and not quite winter yet, so the black vest she wore, and the balaclava she had pushed up over head now had been just right. Jon had worn one too, and he’d since taken it off and stuffed it into the pocket of his black puffer coat. He always ran warm. 

The house was cream-colored and had broken windows. The stone steps leading up to the dingy brown door were falling apart. Shingles hung off the windows. 

There was writing on the walls, most of them upside down pentagrams with “Satan” written in red, the paint dripping just enough to give the illusion of it being blood. There were also a few names of those pronouncing they’d been there in the house, as if they needed proof somehow that they’d actually gone inside. 

There were stains on the carpets and her imagination went wild wondering if the rust-colored ones were dried blood. 

She could hear the wild animals outside, and the trees rustling from the gentle wind. Somewhere she heard the screech of an animal and she shivered again. 

She tried to imagine staying overnight in such a place and her hair rose at the nape of her neck at just the thought of it. Had others? Did this house see many squatters? Did they dare?

She heard a creak coming from behind them and she turned nervously. 

“No one’s here,” Jon assured her. He squeezed her hand encouragingly.  
Sansa then heard a whine and she turned back to the woman tied up and gagged in a rickety old chair. She had tears streaming down her face, streaks of black mingled in from her heavily made up eyes, leaving tracks of it down her face. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Snot gushed from her mouth. Her red-stained lips were smeared, and the plum-colored dress and flats she wore spoke of a woman who was out for a night on the town. Her dress was now wrinkly. 

She had been, until she’d come across Jon and Sansa. 

She looked pathetic, her wavy hair mussed from being in the trunk and jostled around. Her violet eyes begged Sansa to help her, to stop doing whatever she was about to do. 

But Sansa had come too far now and, just like the murderer she wanted to write about, she had to take care of this woman’s big mouth by shutting it forever. 

“Ready?” Jon asked. 

Sansa nodded. 

He let go of her hand and used his other to hand her a hunting knife. It was long with a black handle, grooved for her fingers. 

The woman began to scream behind her gag and Sansa closed her eyes and let the sound wash over her. Her character would enjoy that sound, just like she was.

She stepped forward and said to Jon, “Let the games begin.”


End file.
